


Over/Under

by remembertowrite



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Flash Fic, Gen, Short, Tumblr Prompt, set in season 1 probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remembertowrite/pseuds/remembertowrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Demons, <em>again</em>?"</p><p>Flash fic based on the prompt "Fight me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over/Under

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZombieBabs (CommodoreOblivious)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ZombieBabs+%28CommodoreOblivious%29).



> Originally posted on [my Tumblr](http://surely-you-jess.tumblr.com/post/141650489733/can-i-send-you-the-prompt-fight-me-ahahaha) on March 25. Based off a prompt from [ZombieBabs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiebabs): ["Fight me."](http://remembertowrite.tumblr.com/post/141067249638/prompts-send-me-them-pls-i-want-to-write-rn)

Her sigh is a short burst of breath, something a person who doesn’t know her as well as he does might have missed. He senses the aggravation masking the timid terror; it’s in the way she curls her body inward, hunching her shoulders and crossing her arms like a spooked child; in the way her teeth bare in self-defense like a cornered animal.

“Demons, _again_?”

She’s incredulous and resigned, in that annoyed way of hers that amuses him to no end. He smiles.

“I should start taking bets from my Twitter followers on the over/under percentage of Black Tapes cases that deal with demons,” she says.

He struggles to suppress a laugh. He finds her reactions foreign, spoken in the language of a new generation raised on smartphones and social media. He wonders if he should finally get an account with that MySpace site Travis always prattled on about.

A chuckle escapes his lungs, filling her silence. Normally it’s enough to diffuse her silly trepidation, but she must not have slept well last night, because he feels her eyes hot on his face. Oh, if looks could kill.

He pats her on the shoulder. “Demons don’t exist, Alex.”

She’s five feet and two inches of German Shepherd—she looks harmless but Christ can she bite. She paws his arm away in irritation, starting a small bounce on the balls of her feet. She has the grace of a boxer rising again after getting knocked down.

“Fight me,” she hisses, her hands raised.

He snorts. “You are a ridiculous person sometimes.”

“I could say the same about you,” she says, her sway menacing with predatory intent.

“I’m unfriending you on Twitter if you punch me.”

Alex loses the boxer shuffle and collapses into laughter.

He can’t help but grin at her. Alex Reagan has an uncanny ability to reduce any situation to the absurd. She can be a mind-boggling ludicrous person. He’s not sure half the time why he tolerates their continued partnership. He suspects it has something to do with the warmth spreading across his chest.

“Feeling better?” he offers diplomatically.

“Yes, actually.”

Her smile is like the last desk lamp left on in the library, a familiar beacon of homecoming nestled between the shadows of the bookshelves.


End file.
